When Control Is Lost
by DigiNyxx
Summary: A devasting event causes Hawke to lose control, providing an opportunity for a demon to take possession of her. Fenris fights to prevent the woman he loves from becoming an abomination, knowing what must be done if he fails. f!Hawke/Fenris.


**Author****'****s****Note:** This is an idea I had kicking around in my head for a while. I've always wondered what would happen if Hawke was almost possessed by a demon. I took some inspiration from X-Men: The Last Stand, specifically Jean Grey/Phoenix.

Comments are always appreciated. :D This is a repost (originally part of a story entitled "I Have Faith In You") which I decided to take down, rework and upload as stand-alone stories.

**Timeline:** Set during the events and aftermath of "All That Remains". Another of my stories "Malcolm's Legacy" is referenced, but you don't need to read it. However, it would be awesome if you did.

_Italics_= memories/thoughts

**Disclaimer:** It all belongs to Bioware.

~~~#~~~

**When Control Is Lost**

_As a mage, it is important that you keep your emotions in check. _

Hawke sat cross-legged in the small garden of her family's estate. The sky was clear blue and the sun's rays warmed her pleasantly as she meditated. Her eyes were closed and she was focused on banishing all negative emotion from her mind. It was a technique that her father had spent many hours teaching to both her and Bethany. When she was a girl she had hated being forced out of her bed very early to participate. As she had matured, she began to realise its benefit and was grateful to her father for instilling the discipline within her.

_If you lose control, you become a danger to yourself and the people around you. The meditation will aid you._

She made sure to meditate at least once a day, usually in the morning, to ensure that she could keep herself calm and composed throughout the day. She had continued this practice even in the Deep Roads, which gave Varric no end of amusement. However, her dwarven friend did not realise now meditation ritual had allowed her to keep it together in so many situations where she could have easily lost herself to her powers.

Hawke could remember all too well the last time she made come closes she had to losing control. It was immediately after Bethany had been killed by an ogre as the family attempted to escape the Blight. She remembered that horrible moment all too well; when she realised that Bethany was gone:

_Bethany lay unmoving in Mother's arms, her eyes closed, blood splattered on her face. Wesley and Aveline kept their distance, giving the Hawke family the privacy they needed to say their farewells. Hawke could feel her mental reserves straining against the temptation to give in, to take her dagger, slit her wrist and let the demons come with a boon which would allow Bethany to live again. In that moment of despair, she remembered the words of her father, reminding her of the most important lesson her ever taught her: "You control the power, Jaina. It does not control you." _

_She bent her head and whispered softly "Bethany gave her life to save us," hopeful that her words in some way would console their distraught mother. _

"_I don't want a hero! I want my daughter! How could you let her run off like that? Your little sister! My little girl!" _

The pain of Bethany's passing was a scar that would never fully heal for the family. It had taken Hawke every ounce of mental discipline she had to lock away the grief, the guilt and the anger she felt in the back of her mind. They served no purpose other than to remind her of her mother's accusing tone and her own shortcomings as the appointed head of the family.

Hawke took a deep breath and stretched her arms towards the sky, imagining all stress and doubt flowing from her finger tips and dissipating into the sky. She often wondered if the meditation exercises were taught in the Circle of Magi to aid mages in keeping control of their abilities. Her father had once belonged to the Circle in Kirkwall after all, and it did not seem unreasonable that he would teach some of the lessons he had learned to his apostate daughters.

She lowered her arms and brought them out in front of her, listening to the sounds of the world around her. Despite the murmurs of the city beyond the walls of her estate, the peace of the garden dominated her focus. Apart from her bed chamber, it was the only place in Kirkwall where she could be free of the constant demands that followed a woman of her reputation and status. It was her own sanctuary of healing and salvation (to mimic Anders' words). The members of her household rarely ventured into the garden if she was there, so it came as a surprise when Hawke heard footsteps behind her. They stopped a short distance away from her, apparently waiting. Hawke stretched into the sky again before lowering her hands into prayer position, slowly exhaling. She opened her eyes, taking a moment to adjust to the brightness of the day before standing to face the 'intruder'.

Aveline stood before her with an amused smile playing about his lips. "I didn't realise you still meditated. It's a sign of good discipline."

"Meditation is a worthy pursuit," Hawke replied, rising to her feet. "My father felt it is was an efficient way to help control the more ... volatile aspects of a mage's abilities."

"Then your father was a wiser mage than most I have known."

"Even me?" Hawke teased.

"Sometimes," Aveline said, smiling.

"Really? I'll have to tell you about him sometime. You might change your mind," she smiled, thinking back to the things she had discovered about her father in the Vimmark Mountains only a few weeks earlier. Aveline hadn't been there during that expedition and Hawke had not spoken of it to anyone other than her mother, brother and the companions who had been with her. Varric, uncharacteristically, had been quiet whenever the topic arose amongst at the Hanged Man.

Hawke stretched again, groaning slightly as her relaxed limbs began to wake up. "I'm sure you're here about something other than watching me stretch my arms up to the Maker."

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you, but I wouldn't if it were not important," the guard-captain apologised.

"I'm listening, Aveline," said Hawke. "What's the trouble?" She gestured that they go inside to talk.

The two women ventured through the house, stopping briefly for Aveline to be acknowledged, and slobbered over, by Adama. The mabari barked happily and bounced playfully as Aveline scratched him behind the ears and she laughed as he licked her face. Once Adama was satisfied with the attention he'd received, he followed them into the study and curled up by the fire as the two woman sat down at the table.

Hawke chuckled. "He'll be listening to everything we say, you know. No doubt to make sure that I don't go running off on a hair-brained scheme without him."

"That's good to know. It means that I won't have to spend my free time worrying about you."

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Hawke asked, returning to the matter at hand.

"A thorn in my side that won't take 'no' for an answer." Aveline's features turned into an annoyed frown. "Do you remember Emeric? The Templar who likes to play at being a member of the guard? He's been harassing my men, trying to get them to investigate into more disappearances. He even had them raid the house of a noble man in Hightown, which unearthed nothing. I've had to spend the last two days kissing the seneschal's arse to make up for that mistake."

Hawke turned over the name 'Emeric' in her memory. Three years ago she had been looking into the disappearance of a woman called Ninette and had met Emeric, who believed that the disappearance was connected to that of a Circle Mage named Mharen. Hawke had agreed to take over Emeric's investigation, but it had hit a dead end at a foundry in Lowtown where she had discovered only some human bones and a wedding ring. She could only assume that both Ninette and Mharen were dead. She had seen someone fleeing the scene but the person had disappeared before she could confront them.

"I seem to recall that he had some very good leads," Hawke said.

"Then you won't mind following them up." Aveline was clearly irritated by the incident and Hawke knew would hear no end of it if she ignored her friend's request. She loved Aveline like a sister, but sometimes she could be so prickly.

"All right. I'll talk to him," Hawke acceded.

"Thanks Hawke. I'll try not to make a habit of this." Aveline stood and bid her farewell.

Orana came in a short time later with a tray of tea and hot, buttered toast. Hawke ate breakfast in silence and was glad that she had meditated that morning.

~~~#~~~

_A couple of days later _

The last remains of sunlight spilled through the hole in the roof of the mansion and sound of life bustling outside eventually stirred Fenris from his sleep. He opened his eyes reluctantly and squinted in the brightness. His eyes stung, his head hurt and his entire body ached._Damn__that__dwarf__and__his__ale_, he thought miserably. He sat up in his makeshift bed and swung his legs out, placing his feet on the cold floor. He grunted as he staggered out of bed, searching for his discarded tunic. He eventually found it, draped over the bench by his fire place. On top of it lay the red sash that he had taken to wearing around his wrist - Hawke's favour that he had taken from one of her robes whilst she slumbered following their night together. Her fondled it affectionately for a few moments before setting it aside and dressing himself.

He had just finished wrapping the sash around his gauntleted wrist when he heard someone banging loudly on his bedroom door. He groaned slightly. His head was pounding and he did not need noise to add to it. After grabbing his sword and shouting a loud and angry "YES!" to the door, Fenris made himself promise not to decapitate the originator of the noise, unless, of course, it was Danarius and/or his cronies.

The door opened and it was Isabela, closely followed by Varric.

"You slept all day?" asked Isabela with a look of amusement on her face. "What _did _you drink last night?"

"I made the mistake of thinking I could drink a dwarf under the table," grumbled Fenris. He wasn't in the mood for Isabela's teasing, or Varric's for that matter. He was surprised that the dwarf hadn't immediately begun ribbing him about it upon seeing him in his somewhat delicate disposition. Instead, Varric looked very serious, bordering on anxious. "Is there something wrong?" Fenris asked.

"Hawke's mother has gone missing. She's frantic and asked us to gather everyone to go look," explained Varric.

"What happened exactly?" Fenris wanted to know what was going on. He hadn't heard from Hawke for a few days as she had been busy helping some Templar whose name currently eluded him.

"I'll explain on the way. Hawke asked us to meet her in Lowtown," said Varric. The three companions left the dilapidated mansion and hurried to meet Hawke, during which Fenris got the shortened version of what had been going on over the past few days.

From what he could gather, Hawke had been helping a Templar named Emeric with some follow up investigations relating to a couple of disappearances three years previously. The trail had led them to a noble named Gascard DuPuis, a blood mage who claimed that he was also looking for the real killer, another blood mage named Quentin who had could count DuPuis's sister amongst his victims. They had also learned that the killer sent white lilies to his intended victims before taking them. Hawke, believing him, had let DuPuis go. However, a few hours ago Emeric had been found dead in an alleyway, surrounded by demons and shades. It had been assumed that DuPuis was responsible. Hawke had then returned home to find her uncle frantic as her mother had not shown for their weekly visit. When Bodahn had mentioned that a mysterious suitor had sent white lilies to her mother, Hawke immediately jumped to the conclusion that her mother was the killer's next victim and was adamant that she would find her before it was too late.

As the party ran down the steps that lead to Lowtown, they saw Hawke and Gamlen speaking to a young boy. The boy ran off with some coin that Hawke had given him as they approached. Gamlen was wandering off too and Fenris caught him saying that he was returning to his house in case Leandra turned up.

"The killer has my mother. We're going after him," Hawke said to her friends as they gathered around her. They could all hear fear and determination heavy in her voice.

"Aveline and the guard are out looking, as are Sebastian and some volunteers from the Chantry," explained Varric. "Daisy and Blondie are searching Darktown for any signs of DuPuis and said they'd meet us at your estate later."

Hawke nodded. "The boy said he saw a man collapse on the street and my mother went to help him. They left a trail of blood behind them." Hawke said urgently. She had already spotted some blood on the dusty ground and immediately ran towards it. As she knelt over it, searching the area for more patches of red, she whispered "I just hope we're not too late."

They found more patches of blood and followed them through Lowtown to the Foundry District and a familiar building. "We've been here before," Hawke had murmured as they went inside. She remembered Ninette and Mharen, the human bones, the severed hand and fought back the fear-induced nausea that crept upon her.

More patches of blood led them through the building to a trapdoor. "This wasn't here last time," she said. She remembered the figure she had seen in that very foundry three years earlier, the figure who had spotted them snooping around and promptly disappeared. "This must be where he's taken her. Let's go!"

One by one, they descended into the hole, and were not prepared for what awaited them down there. They fought through mobs of demons and shades. Fenris watched Hawke as she battled a particularly nasty rage demon and began to grow concerned as she used a series of excessively powerful attacks. Not that he was sympathising with demons, but even for Hawke this was excessive. The look of pure rage on her face scared him. She was on edge and possibly ready to crack. He resolved to fight as close to her as possible to keep an eye on her. It would not do to have her lose it completely.

They continued further into the tunnels beneath the foundry and discovered a chamber with a bed, various tomes about necromancy and what appeared to be a shrine to a woman as the chamber's centre piece.

"The woman in the painting ... she ... looks like Mother." Hawke asked, flabbergasted. "What is this?"

"A shrine to wife, or a sister, maybe?" suggested Varric.

"Whatever it is, this place gives me to creeps," shivered Isabela. "Tomes on necromancy, raising the dead, harvesting limbs ... that's just ... icky."

"We need to find Mother now!" The urgency and anxiety in Hawke's voice was unnerving to her companions. Varric had not seen Hawke like this since the business with Carver in the Deep Roads and mentioned so to Fenris and Isabela. As Hawke ran further into the tunnels, the others had a difficult time in catching and keeping up with her. It was almost as if she cast a haste spell on herself.

As they entered another chamber, they saw a man in robes leaning over a high backed chair. He appeared to be talking to someone. He looked up at them with cloudy eyes as they arrived, his gaze fixing on Hawke.

"That is definitely not Gascard DuPuis," Isabela whispered.

"Leandra said you would come," Quentin drawled.

"Where is she? What have you done with my mother?" Hawke snarled, stepping towards the mage.

"She's right here." He stepped to one side and allowed the person in the chair to stand, if one could call the monstrosity a person. The figure staggered and wobbled, it's familiar head turning to face the small group. Hawke stared at the clouded over eyes, pale skin and the ugly, stitched scar running around the neck.

"MOTHER!" she gasped, not wanting to believe what she saw. As the staggering figure with her mother's head moved towards her, Quentin continued his mad ramblings, but Hawke did not hear any of his words. Her rage was mounting and she could feel the last vestiges of her control slipping. She tried to breath, tried to calm herself but the anger and rage in her was too strong to contain. A powerful wind began to blow in the tunnel. Chairs were tipped over and sent crashing into the walls. Some papers that had been scattered on the floor were blown about as the wind grew stronger and stronger, making it difficult for Fenris, Isabela and Varric to stand up straight.

Quentin sensed his own imminent danger and formed an arcane shield around himself as he summoned undead creatures and demons from the ground beneath their feet. Hawke ignored them, still standing tall with her arms pinned to her side. She was not using her staff and she was not relenting on power, drawing on raw, unrefined magic to create the chaos that was unfolding around them. Fenris caught sight of her face, and it was twisted into a mask of rage. He called out to her, but above the noise of the wind and the crashing of debris, he could barely hear himself and doubted that she could either. Varric and Isabela had been pushed back and were holding onto support structures and railings to keep them on their feet. Fenris tried to get to Hawke, but the force of magic surrounding her knocked him from his feet and pushed him back against a wall. He tried to get up, but couldn't move. He felt like he was chained by invisible bonds.

The undead creatures surrounding them advanced on Hawke, seeing her as the biggest threat. Fenris watched in horror as she raised her arms ever so slightly and closed her eyes, concentrating. A powerful force of magic emanated from her in a ten foot radius, obliterating every creature surrounding her and turning them to dust. Her eyes opened, the colour disappearing as they darkened to black. Quentin dropped his shield and attempted to cast a spell, but in that split second between dropping the shield and beginning to cast, Hawke had him. Her anger willed that Quentin be lifted several feet from the ground, and as she held him suspended in the air, her rage bade his limbs be stretched out. Quentin began screaming in pain as his limbs were being slowly pulled apart by the force of Hawke's magic.

"NO, HAWKE!" Fenris screamed at the top of his voice, hoping she could hear him. He could see what she was in danger of becoming, and he had to stop her before she went to far. "JAINA, DON'T!" He desperately called out her name, but it was too late.

The wind suddenly stopped and everything went eerily quiet. The papers, debris and rubble remained suspended in the air. Fenris, Isabela and Varric still could not move, and all they could was watch as Hawke used her own raw magic to rip Quentin's head off and tear him limb-by-limb, letting his torso drop to the group with a thud. Blood splattered everywhere. Across the walls, across the ground and across Hawke. Everything else that was suspended in the air dropped too. Calmly she lowered her arms and her blackened eyes returned to normal. Fenris felt able to move again, as did Isabela and Varric, although they did not dare approach Hawke for fear of what she might do. She was unpredictable in this state and they did not know if she was truly still Hawke. Isabela and Fenris helped Varric to his feet and they watched from a cautious distance as Hawke approached the staggering creature. The creature dropped into Hawke's outstretched arms and was borne gently to the ground, resting on Hawke's knees.

"Mother?" Hawke whispered, her voice hoarse.

"I knew you'd come," Leandra's voice said.

"I wasn't fast enough. I let you down." Hawke's voice cracked, a sob escaping her lips.

"You freed me, darling. That mad man would have kept me here. I get to see Bethany again, and your father, but you'll be all alone," her mother said, trying to soothe her distressed child. "My little girl has grown so strong. You've always made me so proud ..." Her voice trailed off softly as life left her. She sagged against Hawke who had begun to cry uncontrollably.

Fenris dared to venture closer to Hawke's shaking form, despite Varric's pleas to stay. He reached out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. She felt him there, trying to comfort her but at that moment she did not want to be comforted. She didn't deserve it. She had failed Bethany, Carver, her mother and her father. She had failed to save them all and had lost control, viciously using her magic to devastate Quentin. The troubling thing was, she'd enjoyed every second of it. She did not deserve Fenris's touch or anyone else's. She was the monster here, not Quentin. Her irrational thoughts and emotions overtook her again and Fenris suddenly found himself being pushed back by magical force. He hit the wall with a thud, knocking the wind out of him.

Hawke gently placed the body on the ground and stood, her eyes darkening again. The wind picked up, picking up debris, dirt, limbs and bones, sending them flying uncontrollably around the underground chamber. Parts of the support structure holding the ceiling up began to creak and flake away as Hawke continued with her magical outburst. There was an ominous feeling of dread and despair in the air. It suddenly felt colder and darker as Isabela and Varric crawled over to Fenris.

"You all right, elf?" yelled Varric over the noise as he and Isabela reached Fenris's side. Fenris nodded, unable to talk and panting heavily, trying to catch his breath.

"She's completely lost it!" Isabela shouted. "We have to stop her before she hurts herself or, most importantly, us!"

Fenris looked at Hawke. Her eyes were again a deathly black and purple-black veins had begun forming along her skin. He'd seen something like this happen in Tevinter. An apprentice of Danarius's had been pushed too far by the Magister and had lost control in a similar fashion. Danarius had been fascinated by the turn of events because of the power it demonstrated. Magic fueled by raw emotion which gradually caused the change from mage to abomination. Despite the horror that he felt towards her at that moment, Fenris could not let the same thing happen to Hawke. It wasn't too late, but he had to do something before she gave in to her own magic completely and let the demons in. He would try to talk her down, but if he couldn't then he knew what he had to do ...

Fenris forced himself to his feet and began to fight through the strong wind towards Hawke.

"Elf? What are you doing? Are you crazy?" Varric yelled after him. Fenris ignored him and kept fighting on towards Hawke. The lyrium in his skin began to glow as her exerted himself and it caught the attention of the out-of-control mage. She turned towards him and, with a snarl on her face, pushed him back with another blast of magic. Fenris staggered and nearly fell, but remained upright and pushed on. She tried again, but Fenris persevered.

"Why do you come?" said a voice that came from Hawke's lips but did not sound like her. "Am I not to be despised?" She did not try to force him back again, allowing him to stand before her. The elf and his markings were familiar to her, but she could not remember why. It was like a memory from a dream, hazy as she fought through the grief and rage she felt to remember. The wind whipped violently around them as they stood in the eye of Hawke-centred storm.

He looked into her eyes, seeing past the black orbs and remembering the dazzling, blue pools that were once in their place. The blackened veins on her skin were beginning to glow a fiery red. A rage demon was attempting to break through. He didn't have much time. He put her hands on her shoulders and spoke firmly, hoping his words would permeate the rage. If not, he was close enough to give her a quick end. "I have faith in you, Jaina," he said. "You are stronger than this. Do not give in! I will not allow it! Come back to us ... _to __me_."

The snarl on Hawke's face slowly faded as the words of this familiar elf reached her ears. Her mind recalled an important lesson, something taught to her long ago by another man she was having trouble remembering.

_You control the power, Jaina It does not control you._

A realisation dawned on Hawke's face and her features softened. She closed her eyes and heard a roar of the rage demon as she pushed hard against it, willing it with all her might back to the Fade. The action caused her to let go of the magic that was charging through her, instantly dropping the wind and allowing the debris to come crashing to the ground. As her eyes flickered open, the blackness faded and the veins on her face and neck disappeared. She stared at Fenris, unable to catch her breath. He was glowing brightly, his fist incorporeal and poised inches from her chest as if he was preparing to ...

"Fenris," she gasped, "oh Maker! What have I done?" Overcome with grief, exhaustion and horror, she collapsed into Fenris's arms, sobbing her heart out. He held her close and glanced at Isabela and Varric as they approached.

"She's all right," he said to them. "Give her a moment."

"Oh kitten," murmured Isabela, kneeling down and wrapping her arms around the distraught mage. Despite everything that had just happened, Hawke was still her friend and she had lost so much, something Isabela could sympathise with all too well. She'd had one slip up and it had almost cost her everything.

Fenris passed Hawke to the Pirate Queen and her comfort whilst he composed himself. He hadn't been sure if she had heard him. She had gone so still. He had been preparing to end it for her, and despite knowing it was the right thing, it felt like he would be ripping his own heart out along with hers. His own feelings regarding magic began to catch up with him and Fenris found himself wanting to put as much distance between himself and Hawke as possible. He was angry at her for putting him in such a position, but at the same time wanted to comfort her. He was confused, so very confused.

~~~#~~~

_A few hours later_

Hawke sat on the edge of her bed and stared into space. She was numb. She had barely been able to bring herself to look at Fenris, Isabela and Varric after her outburst in Quentin's hovel. She didn't think she would be able to look any of them in the eye again, particularly Fenris. What would he think of her now? She didn't expect for them to continue their association. She knew how he felt about out-of-control mages and abominations, and she ticked at least the former now. She had lost so much that day. Her mother, confidence in the control she had over her abilities and the respect of her friends. Truth be told, she barely remembered much after she had killed Quentin, just Fenris holding her in his arms as she sobbed. Was that how Anders felt whenever Justice took control? She suddenly found herself feeling more sympathetic towards the rebel mage than she usually did.

Upon returning home, she'd gone through the awfulness of explaining what had happened and had almost lost it again when Gamlen decided to lay the blame on her. Instead, she took a few deep breathes and ended the conversation, sending Gamlen back to his hovel in Lowtown to grieve in peace.

She stood up from the bed, moved on to the rug in front of the fire and stood with her feet a few inches apart. She stretched her hands above her head, drawing in a deep breath and stretching her fingertips towards the ceiling. Slowly she brought them down to prayer position and exhaled. She repeated the exercise until she began to feel at least a little calmer. In that one moment of anger and anguish, she had forgotten everything her father had taught her about keeping her emotions under check and had almost lost everything. Never before had Hawke realised how fine a line she trod. As she continued her stretching and breathing exercise, she made an impassioned promise to herself and her father that she would never let it happen again.

She hadn't notice that Fenris had entered the room. He was silent, not wanting to disturb her and waiting patiently for her to finish. He wasn't sure why he had returned to her estate. Everything that had happened only a few hours ago, everything that she had done, it went against his principles to continue to associate with her. His head told him that she had done something unspeakably close to the forbidden and was no better that that abomination she called her 'friend', but in his heart he still cared deeply about her and the thought of being without her was unbearable.

As he lay on his bed, unable to sleep, he could only think of returning to her, despite everything. He thought back to the conversation they'd had about her father a few weeks earlier. He had told (in not so many words) that he had faith in her, and he had reminded her of this whilst she was in the midst of insanity. They weren't just words to talk her down. He truly meant them, even though his principles screamed at him to leave Kirkwall and her behind for good. He remembered their discussion about going against one's principles if the need was forced, and he had felt that the love for another person was justifiable. Here he was going against his own beliefs as he would not, could not, leave her because he cared for her too much. She'd slipped up and regretted it deeply, and he was willing to help her get through it.

She lowered her arms to prayer position one last time, pausing for a moment to offer up a prayer for forgiveness to the Maker before relaxing. She turned and was surprised to see Fenris waiting for her. She sat back on the bed, patting the space beside her. He sat beside her, saying softly "I do not know what to say, but I am here if you have need of me."

Hawke smiled a small, appreciative smile and rested her head on his shoulder as he brought an arm to wrap around her back.


End file.
